Power the Dark Lord Knew Not
by thatflightytemptress.Adventure
Summary: “How do you take it? How can you say this to me without breaking down?” Draco turned to look at Harry and his heart almost broke. He looked as if he’d never smile again. “Who says I’m not?” Harry wanted to see that smile so badly it hurt.


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**ATTENTION: **I do not, nor do I wish to own Harry Potter. He belongs to Draco...I mean...J.K. Rowling. Right. Enjoy and please review? xo thatflightytemptress.Adventure

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It was almost…routine. The fights between them. Draco punches Harry in the jaw. Shaking it off, he shoves Draco into the closest wall and pins him there. In an attempt to get free, Malfoy kicks Potter, hard, in the shin. Determined not to go down without a fight, Harry punches Malfoy in the stomach and they both double over in a simultaneous moment of weakness. They know neither of them can really win it; they are too evenly matched, in strategy and in strength. It won't be long before one of them falls to the ground long enough for the other to realize the truth, sigh, and turn back to his respective dorm, leaving the loser embarrassed and infuriated.

But not this time.

Draco gnarled his teeth in Harry's face, getting ready to stab Potter's shinbone with his toe. The pounding for a few days afterward would be worth it, right? Right. Harry stared back with an equal intensity, his eyes only a few inches away from Draco's.

"What's that, Mrs. Norris? Students out of bed?" The two boys heard Filch's voice coming down the hallway at the same time and turned their heads to see his shadow approaching around the corner. Knowing they couldn't continue with Filch right there, but also not wanting to break their routine, the boys silently agreed to relocate. How convenient that the Room of Requirement was only a few steps away.

"Finally, Potter, I have you all to myself with no one else around." Draco sneered.

"As always, Malfoy. But will it really make a difference?" They intensity of the fight had withered on the way from their original location to their new one, and they both knew it. "Look, Malfoy. I'm tired. It's eleven o'clock. Let's just call this one a tie, shall we?"

"Tie is just another way of saying losing."

"What, another lesson precious Daddy taught you? A fat lot of good that's doing him in Azk—"

Draco rammed Harry into the wall, pounding the slightly smaller boy wildly, anywhere and everywhere he could reach: chest, stomach, arms. Mention of his father always got this reaction from Draco. Exhausted as he was, however, Harry did not choose to fight back. "HOW DARE YOU. HOW DARE YOU MENTION MY FATHER!" Draco kicked and grabbed at Harry's hair, causing Harry to wince, and…more…

"**HOW DARE YOU! INSOLENT BOY! I'LL TEACH YOU!" Vernon pulled the hair from an 8-year-old Harry Potter's head and hurled him into the cupboard. Harry crouched, sobbing inwardly, though never outwardly, waiting for more. Vernon collapsed almost on top of him, nearly crushing the smaller boy. His fists did more than crush Harry, though. The assaults were unbearable, leaving Harry bruised for months…**

…Draco cornered Harry, barely noticing his compliance. "AT LEAST I HAVE PARENTS, YOU…ORPHAN! YOU—"

"WORTHLESS, USELESS, STUPID, DISGUSTING…FREAK!"  
"**WORTHLESS, USELESS, STUPID, DISGUSTING…FREAK!"**

Memories ran through Harry's vision and he collapsed, only partially affected by Malfoy's blows. Draco turned away from him, disgusted, mostly with himself. Malfoys should never show that much emotion. It was unsightly. He was halfway through picking up the various things that had flown off of him during their fight, and considered smashing Potter's glasses, just for the hell of it. Bending down to pick them up, he heard something he had never heard before.

_Is that Potter…crying?_

Harry sat with his knees drawn up and his head bent down, shoulders trembling. If Draco listened closely, he could hear the terrified whispers coming from the teen's quivering form.

"Please…no more…please let me g-go…please s-stop..i-it hurts-s…_PLEASE._" The whispers soon turned into screams of horror and pain that Draco had only heard from victims of the Cruciatus curse. But so far as Draco knew, only Voldemort had put him under the curse, and instinctively Draco knew that Harry's episode was not the result of abuse from Voldemort. But from who, then? He stared on in terror, paralyzed, as Harry's form began to shake and convulse, while piercing screams erupted from the boy's throat.

After two minutes of the torture, on both parties, without realizing his actions, Draco leaped into action and sprinted to the other side of the room. Potter's eyes were almost rolling into the back of his head, for Merlin's sake! Suddenly concerned for the boy's head, Draco kneeled next to Harry's spastic form and wrapped his arms around him, clutching his surprisingly soft black hair and forcing Harry's head into the nook where Draco's head met his shoulder, and wrapping his free arm around the smaller boy's waist. Draco did not know for how long he stayed in that position, legs straddling Harry's waist, halfway bent over to the floor, but he waited for the most violent shudders to pass. It seemed like forever, but Draco still hadn't let go.

When Potter's breathing seemed almost normal, he carried him over to the bed that the Room had supplied, pulled back the covers with a flick of his wrist, and laid him gently, as if he were more porcelain than teenage boy. He waited.

Harry woke up comfortable, on a plush bed under soft, warm covers. Recalling his episode, he panicked slightly.

**Fuck. Not again. Who did I seize in front of this ti—fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.**Harry remembered the fight with Malfoy. Breath hitching, he opened his eyes to Draco resting with his head in his arms on a desk, far from the bed. _Malfoy. Perfect._

Sensing more than hearing the change in Potter's breathing, Draco startled awake and looked at Potter, awake, not missing the other boy avoiding eye contact. Nor did he miss the watering in the other boy's eyes. It was a while before either of them thought to speak; the silence between them grew stale and uncomfortable. Harry decided to take the initiative and answer the questions that he could feel Malfoy's gaze burning into his cheek with interrogative fire before they were asked. Eyes staring at the ceiling, he started.

"I lived with muggles before I came to Hogwarts. I still do, every summer. But before I knew what I was, they abused me…badly. Tried to beat the magic out of me, I suppose. Kept me in a cupboard and scarcely fed me, though they forced me to do the cooking and the cleaning. Punished me when I did something wrong. Seemed I couldn't do anything right."

"My uncle, though…he was the worst of them. Nothing I did was ever good enough. The fat man would beat me, repeatedly, without mercy. He was huge and I was…small."

Draco recalled the first time he had seen Harry in Madam Malkin's shop. He had seemed grossly underweight, malnourished a understatement. He felt anger towards muggles more than he ever had before.

"He called me all sorts of things during these beatings. Stupid, ugly, worthless. Freak was his favorite, if I remember correctly."

Draco winced as Potter relayed the words that Draco knew had come out of his own mouth just—was it only an hour?—before.

"Guess that's what triggered…well. You know."

Awkward silence ensued for not the first time that night.

"Was that the first time?"

Harry had to snort at that one. "God…no. I don't even know how many times at this point. They usually come randomly, and Ron and Hermione have been there for all of them, but I just tell them it's Voldemort at it again or whatnot. They knew that I was abused, but I never let them know the full extent of it."

Another silence passed, before Harry couldn't take it anymore. He turned his body to face Draco for the first time. "So Draco. I guess you can leave now. I suppose I don't really care who knows now. I mean…_Malfoy_ knows." He suddenly became fascinated with the trim of the very ornate pillow.

Draco chuckled, before his face adapted an expression of decision and satisfaction with it. He walked over to the bed and sat on the opposite edge, eyes looking gently on the back of Harry's breathing form. He turned his gaze to the wall in front of him.

"Well, then, Potter. I guess the idea of you living in a castle being waited on hand and foot is complete fallacy now, isn't it?"

Harry laughed. "Well that's a new one. I thought that was your story, Malfoy."

Draco sighed with a sad smile on his face.

Realizing his mistake, Harry barely sounded, "Guess not, huh?"

In an even softer voice, Draco replied, "Hardly."

Another stretch of quiet. Harry flipped to face Malfoy, who was still staring at the wall. What he said was "So, come on, Malfoy, out with it." What was meant, and what was heard, was more of an invitation to return the favor.

Pause.

"I had always shown…potential. See, most of your trouble came before Hogwarts. Before Hog warts, I was the Golden Child. I knew how to fly, and had already exhibited my talent in Potions and just magic in general. Father was proud of me and was sure that I would continue the Malfoy line with grace and with dignity." Draco's bitter tone betrayed the otherwise cheerful recount.

"_Young Master Draco, sir, your father wishes to see you in the den." Dobby cowered and disappeared in a flash. Knowing better than to keep his father waiting, Draco hurried to the den to see his father in a bit of distress. He straightened immediately upon seeing Draco. After all, when was the last time a Malfoy was seen in distress? Ridiculous._

"_Yes, Father?"_

"_Ahh, Draco. I have…an assignment for you."_

"_An assignment, Father?" Draco was perplexed. He had finished his summer studies a month ago._

"_Yes. You are, in fact, to be visiting Diagon Alley tomorrow to purchase your school things, is that correct?"_

"_Yes, sire."_

"_You should know that there is a very high likelihood of you running into an individual named Harry Potter."_

"_Harry Potter, sir? The one from my books?"_

"_Indeed, one and the same. Now, —"_

"_But—"_

"_Don't interrupt, Draco."_

"_Sorry, sir, of course."_

"_Right. I want you to befriend young Mr. Potter. He is undoubtedly new to the wizarding world. Make him feel comfortable with his new surroundings. Be your charming self."_

At this, Harry had to raise one eyebrow. Not only was he vaguely perturbed about the books about him Draco had mentioned, but also the fact that Draco was supposed to be his "charming self" that day in Diagon Alley. He started to voice his opinions, but stopped when he noticed the change in Draco's demeanor.

"Needless to say, I hardly made the best impression on you that day."

_Lucius was furious. And drunk. And the two did not mix very well._

"_YOU IDIOT! HOW HARD IS IT TO BEFRIEND A CONFUSED 10-YEAR-OLD BOY!" Draco cowered, afraid of this angry man that looked so much like his father._

"_Maybe THIS will teach you a lesson. Crucio!"_

Harry's eyes widened. Crucio…on a ten year old Draco.

"That was the breaking point between Father and I. After that, things only became worse. When Granger started beating me in academics, the punishments only got more severe. Starvation, beatings, things you couldn't even ima—well. I guess you could. You bested me in everything, Potter. Hell, you bested the Dark Lord time after time. And time after time, I got a special treat when Father was extra drunk."

Harry blushed shamefacedly; he had always wondered why the blonde had hated him with such a passion. Now he didn't need to wonder. Hell, he'd probably hate him too.

"Draco, I—"

"No, Harry. Don't you dare apologize. You Gryffindors. No. Remember third year, when that beast attacked me?"

Harry found it was a bad time to bring up the fact that Draco had, indeed, provoked Buckbeak. "Yeah."

"And remember how the blasted thing ended up escaping anyway? Well, Father had a rough time explaining that one to the Ministry. Then the Dark Lord decided to harp on him about it too. If he couldn't handle a damn hippogriff, how would he be of any assistance in killing you, the great Harry Potter? But my father, he'd seen what I had done, how I could upset you so easily. And so instead of becoming your best friend to bait you, as my father had originally intended those years ago, I was to be your worst enemy, besides the Dark lord himself. That night, the Dark Lord marked me."

Harry sat back, in shock. Draco, a real Death Eater? His gaze faltered to Draco's left forearm, which was just as pale as the rest of him.

Draco saw the look on his face. "Oh, no. Not the Dark Mark. One isn't allowed the…privilege…of the Mark until they are a full adult wizard, among other tests of loyalty. No, I have a different one." Draco raised his wand and Harry saw the signs of a glamour being retracted. Draco's mark could be described as half of a Dark Mark—only the skull, not the snake.

"It's not horrible, really. I can cover it with a glamour, and unlike the Dark Mark, I don't have a mental connection to him. It's supposed to serve as a reminder, I guess, a reminder of what I was born to and will one day be. The Dark Lord himself told me that he had used a majority of his knowledge of his magical powers to create my special little mark." Draco paused in his story. "Your scar, you feel when someone is being attacked, yes? My theory is that what you suffer is the mental aspect of the torture, with some of the physical. When a victim of his suffers the Crucio, you get a very watered down version of it in your vision, yes?"

Harry could only nod.

"Well. Voldemort's gift to me lets me feel…all of it. My connection is not with him, but with his victims."

Not once in his story didn't Draco's voice falter, did he need to stop for anything other than dramatic effect. He did still face the wall, however, and Harry couldn't stand it anymore.

"How do you take it? How can you say this to me without…suffering, without breaking down?"

Draco's shoulders slumped, a position that Harry was not used to seeing him in, and turned to face Harry slowly. Harry's heart almost broke at the expression he was faced with. Draco's eyes had always been a mystery to Harry. How the pupils seemed to be tiny stones, thrown into pools of liquid mercury, the resulting ripple being the overall effect. Now, the irises of his eyes were flat, the grey resembling the color of lint more than the vibrant silver they usually were. The water had jumped out from his eyes to the tears that were clinging to his lashes. He looked as if he'd never smile again.

"Who says I'm not?"

Harry wanted to see that smile so badly it hurt.

He reached over to Draco's left hand that was resting on the bed beside him and took it within his right one. He looked at Draco with a mixture between resolved determination and uncertain shyness while intertwining their fingers. Pulling back on the covers, he tugged on Draco's arms tentatively, hinting as to what he wanted the other boy to do. Draco slipped off his shoes and climbed into the bed. Harry's insides turned warm at the fact that he hadn't really forced the boy to, but that he had wanted to. He waited for Draco to get comfortable, back resting on the numerous pillows provided to them, before moving closer and—cuddling?—with the boy.

Draco's breath caught when he felt Harry rest his head on his chest. Instinctively, his arm went around to hold the other boy, and he found himself delighted when Harry placed his arm next to his face, palm burning into the taller boy's stomach. They breathed together for a while, neither really knowing what they had done or what to do now.

Finally, Harry reached around Draco and found the arm with the hideous mark on it. Draco, who had relaxed over the course of time and found himself quite at ease, immediately tensed and snatched his arm away from Harry, though the arm around him never moved.

"What are you doing?" he spoke, sharply, though his voice lacked the usual malice.

"Just…trust me for a second, would you?"

Both boys know the weight of the question. Draco Malfoy, Death-Eater-in-the-Making Extraordinaire, trust Harry Potter, the Golden Boy, the one who had made his life miserable and hurt him so many ways?

_The real pain he caused was never intentional, though…_

A whisper. "Okay."

Harry felt a thrill of triumph go through him as he reached for Draco's arm again. Bringing it to level with his face, still resting easily on Draco's chest, he ran over the mark lightly with his fingertips, tracing the marks that looked like Draco had tried to manually remove it at some point.

"You said that he used his entire knowledge of his magic and power to do this to you, then?"

"…yes."

Harry's eyebrows furrowed, quite adorably, in Draco's opinion.

"I wonder…"

"Wonder wha—"

Harry pressed his lips fully to the head of the skull, quite a chaste kiss to anyone who was not either of the boys. But them, they knew it was more than that.

"Potter, what are y—" Draco's eyes widened when Harry pulled back. The mark had faded, not dramatically, but it was reminiscent of the effect of a strong grip on someone's sunburned arm. The black eventually came back, but not before allowing Draco's natural alabaster tone to seep through for a considerable amount of seconds.

Draco sat up, arm recoiling from Harry's back to touch the mark, finding it the same as before. "Wha—what did you do? How did you…?"

Harry, however, was still shocked that it had worked. He wasn't normally one for ingenious breakthroughs. The hint of a smile tugged at the edge of his lips. "…power the Dark Lord knows not…" he recalled.

"What are you on about?" Draco inquired, still dazed from the fact that his mark had indeed _faded_, when his attempts to cut and scrub it away when he had first received it hadn't worked.

"Don't worry about it."

"Don't worry…what? What's the power the Dark Lord knows not?"

Harry sighed, eyes avoiding Draco's, a faint blush creeping up his neck. "…love." He turned his back to Draco, not really wanting to see the other boy's reaction to his…confession?

Draco's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "Love, Potter? Are you telling me that just now, sometime during this little chat of ours, all the animosity from over the years, all the hate and the fights and the name calling somehow translated into love?"

If Harry wasn't careful, he was going to start outright crying from Draco's words, despite the fact that the other boy had said them, not so much mockingly, but more with lingering curiosity. Covering it up, he chuckled slightly.

"Yeah, Malfoy, guess you're right." He pointed, lowering his head, to the fresh cut on his arm that Draco had given him when he had been scratching at him earlier. "I mean…that doesn't look too much like love to me, does it to you?" he let out with a bitter tone.

**Maybe, if I can heal him…**

Draco pondered for a second.

"It could."

…_I can heal me, too._

Harry raised his head, "Wha—"

He was cut off by the shock of feeling Draco's tentative lips on the back of his arm, where the cut was. Startled, he turned around when he deemed it safe enough to do so without ripping Draco's head off. He was surprised to find a very shy looking Draco Malfoy with a faint blush on his cheekbones.

"What about this one?" He gestured to the scar on his collarbone which was from one of their previous, more vicious fights.

Draco reached out and gently traced it with his finger, not missing the change in Harry's breathing. He leaned over and kissed the scar, lingering this time. He sucked on it, feeling Harry shivering under him. Harry's hand went up to lace his fingers into Draco's long, soft locks. After what seemed like an eternity's worth of torture, Draco leaned back.

Panting slightly, Harry gestured again, timidly, to his busted lip. "What about this one?"

Not wasting another second, Draco leaned into Harry again, catching his gaze before their lips barely touched. The two boys stared into each others' eyes in wonder as their mouths began to seemingly move of their own accord. The kiss was tender, almost chaste. That is, before Draco decided to move things along a bit (patience: another trait Malfoys lack) and start to nurse Harry's wound…with his tongue.

Harry gasped as his eyelids fluttered shut. Mouth conveniently open, Draco slipped his tongue inside the other boy's, pinning him down to the bed by the waist. Harry didn't complain; he reached around Draco's neck and brought him down closer, deepening the kiss as tongues twisted in the most delightful ways. Draco felt himself almost toppling over, and so he moved his leg to straddle Harry, now resting back fully on the bed. Draco slipped his hand underneath Harry's shirt and caressed the pelvic jutting from his skin, moving up to trace his Quidditch-honed abs. Draco ended the kiss with a soft suck on Harry's injured lip before moving up to get a better look at the boy, now panting heavily.

Harry opened his eyes slowly, not wanting to ruin the intimate moment. He was met with the burning intensity of Draco's mercury pools.

**Ah…there they are…**

Harry didn't have much time to think before Draco bent over to lick a trail of fire down from behind Harry's ear down to his nipple, opening buttons deftly as he went.

At this point, both teens had almost completely forgotten about their tender moment earlier; their blood ran hot with desire, tingling at the other's touch. And there was a _lot _of touch.

Harry shirtless, lay writhing and gasping, one hand still tangled in Draco's hair, the other grasping onto the sheets, trying to hold on to some sense of sanity, as Draco continued his ministrations on Harry's anatomy. He lapped his tongue generously around each of Harry's nipples, springing them to full tautness before moving lower. His tongue dipped into the brunette's navel, dragging a low throated moan from his lips, back arching gracefully into Draco's tongue.

It was the sexiest thing Draco had ever seen.

Harry lay shuddering, feeling almost guilty for his lack of reciprocation…almost. It was all he could do to not beg Draco to move lower and suck him damn it. He almost cried when Draco looked up questioningly, as if asking his permission. "Yes, yes, God, yes, please…"

Draco's nimble fingers undid Harry's fly quickly, pulling his trousers off swiftly. Harry's arousal was not quite as easily hidden without the restraints of his pants. He was almost bashful about it…until he felt Draco's hot, moist cavern of a mouth massaging his dick through his boxers.

_Anything, anything to hear that groan again._

Draco was not disappointed. Harry bent backwards and groaned, clinging so tightly, yet not painfully, to Draco's hair as he felt his boxers being pulled down and suddenly Draco's tongue was doing marvelous things to Harry's weeping cock. Hard, wet, muscle ran along that vein that so presented itself and into the small slit at the tip of his penis while Draco's fingers played with his balls. Harry started to see pinpricks of light started to come into his vision.

**No…not yet…not like this.**

It suddenly occurred to Harry the unfairness of it all. Here he was, naked as the day he was born, while Draco was still fully clothed. He let go of his death grip on Draco's platinum locks, pulling his chin up to meet his gaze. (In retrospect, he had no idea how he had overcome the temptation and sensory overload to do such a thing.) Draco took in how utterly irresistible and delicious a debauched Harry Potter looked. Harry cupped Draco's jaw and brought him up to kiss him, a soft, deep kiss, more to provide a distraction while Harry unbuttoned Draco's shirt and slipped it off of his shoulders.

Shirt thrown aside carelessly, he pulled Draco down flush against his chest. This time, both boys moaned at the sensation. Draco wrapped both arms tight around Harry's waist, pulling him into a firm hug. Harry bit gently into Draco's ear, coaxing a soft whimper from the boy.

"Draco…" he whispered.

"Yes, Harry?"

"…make love to me."

Draco leaned up, eyes wide with shock and then settling into deep arousal. Harry shuddered at the desire in Malfoy's eyes, pupils dilated to the point of only a tiny shimmering hoop of silver around deep wells of blackness. Draco kissed Harry again, this time passionately like no one had ever known passion, causing Harry to break from his process of releasing Draco's impressive erection more than once with mewls and groans.

Draco, now naked, returned to his previous ministrations, taking Harry in full and bobbing his head up and down. Sensing Harry's orgasm, he stopped, causing Harry to choke in desperation. His tongue moved lower, past his engorged ball sac to his tight hole that almost screamed for Draco to fuck him into the mattress like there was no tomorrow.

Harry screamed when he felt Draco's tongue trace the cleft of his asshole, hands gripping the sheets at either side of him while he arched up to take more of what Draco was offering him. Draco pointed the tip of his tongue and stabbed into Harry's hole repeatedly, occasionally lapping at the area around it.

Harry was almost in tears at this point. "Draco…please…I need you inside of me…please, love…"

Harry's pet name for Draco drove him wild. Straightening out, Draco pressed a finger to Harry's mouth, wordlessly ordering him to suck. At last, here was Harry's chance for returning the favor. Harry swirled his tongue in the most creative ways around Draco's finger, sucking deep, almost causing Draco's eyes to cross. Draco's weeping cock decided that if Harry were to continue, it would come at any second, and so Draco pulled his finger out of Harry's mouth and into a more interesting orifice.

Harry's breathing, already irregular, completely stopped when he felt the first finger breach his entrance. It felt so good…eyes widened and rolled to the back of his head. **WHAT THE BLOODY HELL WAS THAT!**

Draco smirked in satisfaction. _There it is…_ He inserted another finger, scissoring them to prepare Harry for more. A third finger entered, Draco not forgetting to hit that _sweet spot_ occasionally. Harry lay beneath him, moaning as if he'd been having an orgasm for the past five minutes entirely.

Harry whimpered when he felt the loss of Draco's fingers inside of him, working their magic so that Harry could barely see anymore. It wasn't for long, however…something else—much bigger—came into contact with Harry's hole, and it took all of his willpower not to arch up and impale himself on that lovely**…oh…** Harry shivered as he felt Draco's cock slide balls deep into his ass. Nothing had ever felt so…right.

_So…tight…_ Draco wanted nothing more in that moment than to stab his dick through Harry's anus out to the other side (wherever that was) over and over, fast and hard and rough. He knew he had to take it slow, though…the torture he was putting Harry through was too delicious to surrender.

And so, Draco held on to his willpower, amazingly, and slid out and in, out and in, slowly and carefully, making sure to keep contact with every edge of Harry's hole the entire time. Tears began to fall from Harry's eyes, as he begged Draco to go faster. Deciding that this wouldn't get anything from Draco, Harry pulled a rather Slytherin move. On one of Draco's withdrawals, he shifted under Draco, causing Draco to fall forward, sliding impossibly deep into Harry's passage.

**Merlin…**

_Merlin…_

Harry took this opportunity to wrap his legs around Draco's ass and pulled him in even deeper, though that seemed hardly fathomable. Draco let out a shuddering gasp and suddenly all previous thoughts of torturing Harry were gone. He grabbed onto Harry's waist and slid out, ramming back in with fierce intensity. He kept up his brutal pace, each thrust making Harry's legs to spasm randomly in the air.

"OH…God, Draco, that's…unhhhh…oh, my GOD, **faster…"**

Draco sped up, driving into Harry so fast it seemed he never left. The two boys rocked back and forth, always _almost_ there, teetering over the brink of ecstasy.

"…**harder…"**

Draco thrust into Harry harder and deeper each time, almost digging him an extension of his asshole.

Harry clung to Draco's shoulders as his eyes drifted upwards to see Draco's expression. Intense concentration and utter desire mixed with amazement and wonder graced the boy's delicate features, sheen with sweat from their activity.

At this sight, Harry's body threw itself up and all of his muscles tightened and suddenly he was coming and coming and coming, long white ribbons of semen shooting between the two as all of his muscles tightened and relaxed simultaneously.

Draco felt Harry's orgasm clench around his cock. The heat and pressure around his member were too much for him to take, and so he finally lost his self control and spiraled into the oblivion of orgasm.

The boys lay like that, hot and sweaty and sticky with Harry's come between them and Draco still inside Harry. Flushed and breathing heavy, they held each other tightly until Draco finally pulled out of Harry, come trickling down between his thighs.

They lay panting, still holding each other close. Harry felt Draco's breathing even out as he drifted off to sleep. He caressed the arm holding him and turned it over.

The mark was gone.

Harry smiled to himself.

**Power the Dark Lord knows not, indeed…**

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Right so I'm fairly aware of the multiple plotlines within this story...please forgive my ADD and lack of attention towards the actual plot when it comes to the smut. IIIIIII'masuckerforit.

Points to anyone who noticed an error in the story.

Review? Much appreciated


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